Pirates of the Caribbean: The Notes of León
by Lizzy Sidle
Summary: 200 years before Captain Jack, Juan Ponce de Leon set out for the Agua de Vida and failed. His notes are still out there, filled with his secrets. Can Elizabeth, Jack, or Barbossa find them but avoid the danger that comes with matters of life and death?
1. Prologue: The Notes of Leon

**A/N:** Spoilers for At World's End. Rated T for safety. I worked hard to keep a lot of this historically accurate. Long excerpts of Spanish are followed with English translations (though unfortunately, what sounds pretty and flowing in Spanish translates a little roughly, less-elegantly into English). Not quite sure what I'm doing with it yet. I've got ideas for the first couple of chapters, but after that it'll be a make-it-up-as-I-go kinda thing. :) Reviews and suggestions are appreciated. I'm addicted to them. This is my first Pirate fic, so I'm sure I'll need a couple suggestions. Feel free to ask questions and I'll answer what I can. Enjoy! **

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**Prologue: The Notes of León**

**Off the coast of Florida, 1513**

Waves hissed outside the musty cabin walls of Juan Ponce de León's ship as he fervently scrawled on a stack of parchment. His metal helm glinted in the candlelight, reflecting the yellow flickering flames as his ship rocked back and forth. Wax dripped slowly onto the table with each passing minute. He'd been working for hours, days, months on these notes. They were his work and thoughts, his observations. Every word he wrote gave him hope of inspiration, hope of enlightenment. Hope that he would find the way. He'd been secretly on this quest for years. Islands and seas of the Caribbean had been conquered in the name of Spain, but all the while he was searching. He was always searching.

People all over the earth had searched for it. First in Jerusalem, where _Jesús Cristo _himself had supposedly baptized men with the waters. Then in Asia, where Alexander the Great eagerly sought it out. Now he'd finally heard word of this magical place somewhere in the Caribbean. From the coasts of Puerto Rico, Hispaniola, and Cuba, natives gave tell of a healing spring, a place of eternal life. Even these uncivilized peoples from the complete opposite side of the world had heard of such a place. They spoke of Sequene, chief of the Arawak tribe, who had been consumed with the greed and desire for it. He'd put together a large caravan of warriors and set off years before, never to return. De León had been convinced what he searched for lay somewhere within the mainland, somewhere beyond the coasts of this newly-discovered, newly-named Florida.

His forehead shimmered with sweat as he leaned further over the table. Pages lay spread out across the wood before him, ink drying. Pages and pages of his records of the journey thus far. Pages and pages of what he had proved was false and what he had proved was true. He'd become obsessive, pouring over the sheets of parchment, adding more and more every day.

But not today.

He bent closer, his brow furrowing in concentration. The scratch of his quill was barely heard over the creaking of the wood and the crashing of the water. He was not adding today, no. He was concluding. Concluding his journey.

"_He buscada para muchos años, por todas partes de éstos mares, pero yo nunca la encuentro. Yo nunca encontré el Agua de Vida, la Fuente de Juventud, la última oportunidad para inmortalidad. Mis soldados están cansados y abatidos. Ellos no pueden continuar en este viaje. El tiempo es duro. Las horas son largas. Nuestros cuerpos y nuestros espíritus son rotos. Hay nada más dejó en el Caribean, en los océanos, en este mundo. Es imposible alcanzarla. Es imposible alcanzar el Agua de Vida. Estas cartas son el tiempo final que yo hablo de este._"

(I have been searching for many years, all over the seas, but I never find it. I never found the water of life, the fountain of youth, the final opportunity for immortality. My soldiers are tired and dispirited. They are not able to continue on this journey. The weather is harsh. The hours are long. Our bodies and our spirits are broken. There is nothing left in the Caribbean, in the oceans, in this world. It is impossible to reach it. It is impossible to reach the water of life. These letters are the last I speak of this.)

With a woeful look up to the groaning, dripping ceiling of his captain's quarters, De Leon signed the bottom of the cream paper and swiftly blew out the candle. The puff of smoke lingered with his thoughts as he sat alone in the darkness. Never would anyone find the fountain. Never would anyone see the notes he had written. Never would anyone know these secrets. It was impossible to find that spring.

It was impossible.


	2. The City of San Juan

_**The City of San Juan**_

Grass thrashed around her knees, whispering quietly to her as Elizabeth stared out to sea. She'd been lying there for nearly an hour now, hardly moving. Her every limb was numbed and heavy as lead. She held no other desire but to sit there, waiting for Will to return. The wooden chest was in her lap, wrapped in her heavy jacket and other clothing that had come with being Sao Feng's replacement. She wore only a loose-fitting black dress. Her grip on the chest tightened as her thoughts raced. Being a pirate lord, a king of the pirate race, meant nothing now. All she wanted to do was sit where she was and wait for Will, her loyalty and longing rooting her to the spot.

The heart was thumping faintly against the side of the chest and she calmly set her chin atop its cloth wrappings, eyes closed, listening. _'It's always belonged to you…'_ A tear squeezed past and she clung tighter to it, as if the closer it was, the closer he would be. It beat slowly, rhythmically, in harmony with her own. She would never let it out of her sight. Her eyes opened again, and she continued staring out at the rushing waves, gripping at the sand before withdrawing as if burned. It whispered to her as well, as if calling her…as if she should be out there, sailing those waters with the people she had grown to know over the past years, who she had saved and in return been saved. That longing coupled with her yearning for Will was mentally crippling her.

The island Will had dropped her at was not, in fact, a deserted island, but merely an empty, rather lifeless portion of Puerto Rico, near the capital of San Juan. The both of them had discussed her new location beforehand, and there were some good reasons for coming here. For one, she was wanted by England, not Spain. Despite her being the post-governor's daughter and Beckett being dead and gone, she was not excluded from the law. She was guilty of piracy. Very guilty. For pities sake—she was the king of all pirates! If she were to return to an English territory, she would be promptly recognized, caught, and hanged. Aside from that, Puerto Rico at least had some company. She would not have to bear being apart from Will _and_ the rest of the world.

It was dark now, the shore and waters lit only by the stars and moon. The sun had set long ago, usual warm winds cooling to a nice, evening breeze. She would have to move soon if she hoped to make it to the nearby city. With a deep, collective breath, Elizabeth lifted herself to her feet, holding the chest tightly under her arm, hidden, wrapped within her heavy robe. She turned slowly to face the inner island, catching sight of a glimmer of light, the glow of the capital.

With a tentative glance over her shoulder towards the sea, she began walking. Every step she took drained her more and more. The thick grass around her knees seemed to be pulling at her, dragging her back to the earth. The mental exhaustion and heartbreak clung to her like a ball and chain. She did not want to leave the beach…it would only be confirmation of the horrid, painful truth. Ten years without Will… She would have to find somewhere to live, somewhere to work, some way to make a living. She would have to avoid questions, avoid suspicion, and live a quiet, peaceful life without interruptions from pirates that could drag her away from the place Will had entrusted her to stay. The city wasn't so far away, maybe an hour or two of walking, but she doubted she had the energy to make it there within the night…

\\//\\//

"¡_Mamá__¡__Mamá_!" yelled a young boy, sprinting bare-footed down a dirt pathway. His mother exclaimed back at him in rapid Spanish, tugging a four-year-old girl by the hand. The woman was wearing a cream, flowing dress, hidden partially beneath a dark brown, bodice laced up her midsection. Her dark hair was wrapped into a tight bun at the base of her head, her fine-boned face etched with concern. Her daughter, Ana, wore something similar, only her black hair was tucked up into a small cap. A basket of fruit, bread, and eggs was clutched in the woman's other hand.

The boy finally reached her, panting, spouting random words as he gasped for breath.

"¡ _Ay, Manuel_!" she said exasperatedly, taking a concerned step closer to him and bending to his level. She scolded him fiercely, her face stern.

Manuel looked frantic at her ignorance, wringing his hands and bouncing on his toes. He continued his explanation, his voice brimming with urgency. Her eyebrows creased and her lips pursed while he spoke. When Manuel finished, she handed him the basket and lifted Ana onto her hip.

"_Muéstreme_," she commanded.

With a basket in one hand and his mother's hand in the other, Manuel took her off the path, down a grassy slope for many, many yards. Finally, they reached his destination and Manuel began to bounce again. "¡ _Allí__, Mam__á__¡__Allí_!" he said, pointing at a black mass in a nest of grass. His mother squinted, lowering Ana to the ground as she took several steps nearer. What she saw was most peculiar…

Elizabeth was curled up on the ground, the chest under her head as a pillow. She had fallen asleep to the sound of Will's beating heart that night, finally too fatigued to continue towards San Juan. She had stopped at this moderately traveled path in the hopes somebody who could help her would arrive. Her arms were latched tightly around the chest, even in sleep.

Manuel took his sister's hand and the two of them cautiously stepped nearer. They hovered just behind their mother, curious but wary of this strange sight.

"¿ _Señorita_?" the woman whispered, coming nearer. She set a gentle hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "¿ _Señorita_?"

Elizabeth stretched, sighing as she shifted in her sleep. The woman gave a soft sigh of relief, bending down to her knees and giving Elizabeth a gentle push. She gave a quiet, urgent command in Spanish, but it went unanswered. Slowly, Ana pulled her hand from Manuel's grasp, trotting forward to this strange woman.

"¡ _Señorita_!" Ana said in her quiet, young voice, bending down, prodding Elizabeth on the arm before her mother could stop her. Elizabeth stirred, her eyes slowly flickering open. The first thing she saw was the little girl, inches from her nose and staring at her with soft brown eyes. Panic jump-started her entire body, and Elizabeth sprang up, hand to her pounding heart.

The other woman stood up, holding out a hand to her while asking a concerned question in Spanish.

"I—I don't speak Spanish," Elizabeth replied, shaking her head and pulling the chest into her lap. The panic was slowly drifting away as she glanced from Manuel, to Ana, to their mother again. Her tight grip on the chest was loosening. Only a woman and her two children… Dangerous, most likely not; trustworthy, she could not be sure.

"English, then, _Señorita_?" the woman asked with a heavy accent. She emphasized her hand once more, urging Elizabeth to take it. When she did, the woman pulled her to a standing position and said, "I will ask again, then. Your name? And how did you arrive in Puerto Rico?"

Elizabeth stumbled with her lie, though finally managing to stutter, "I-I fell. Overboard. I fell overboard." She clutched the chest to her stomach, still wary of this sudden company. Could she trust this woman? A peasant, by the looks of her, but Elizabeth was not one to judge. For pirate was lower on the status ladder…

"And your name?" The woman raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"Elizabeth."

"Josefina," she replied immediately, though coldly. She finally released Elizabeth's hand. "Come. We need to get you out of here and into some decent clothing before less friendly company arrives."

Elizabeth did not object as Ana grabbed her hand and the four of them clambered up the hill, back onto the dirt path. Manuel was out ahead, clinging to the basket of food. Josefina walked beside Elizabeth, and Ana clung tightly to her hand, gazing nonchalantly at the scenery as they walked. Neither of the children seemed to understand what their mother was saying. Elizabeth could only assume Josefina was the only bilingual one of the group.

"You have anyone here you know?" Josefina asked, quite business-like. "_Familia_, acquaintances, husband?"

"N-no…"

"Do you have a way back to where you are from, then? England?" she questioned, turning and making eye contact.

"I…I don't think so, no…No, I don't."

Josefina raised her eyebrow once more, curious. "Is it that you do not have a way back, or you do not _want_ a way back? I am never sure if I can trust you foreigners. The truth, _por__ favor_, Elizabeth_…_"

"Is there somewhere I can stay, here, permanently?" she asked cautiously, not sure if it was quite what this woman wanted to hear.

Josefina raised an eyebrow, but finally grinned. "Are you willing to work for your keep? Can you cook? Clean? Sew?"

"Of course."

"I work in the governor's mansion, in the kitchens. All the governors have lived there since San Juan was founded! It is an honor to be working in such a fine establishment with such an established lineage, and you should feel the very same way. Humbled, as you say." She looked up to see if Elizabeth had been put off by this information.

"I would be more than glad to—"

"Then as soon as we get you into some proper clothes, we'll get you set up and you can help me cook dinner tonight."

Elizabeth, left speechless by the way things were falling so nicely together so quickly, could do nothing but nod. The four of them continued walking for nearly an hour, the dirt path leading them through trees and over more hills before turning into a cobbled street. Children ran past, bouncing balls of rubber against the stone. Horses trotted along with their riders, sitting tall and regal on their backs. Men and women dolled up in enormous hoop skirts and feathered hats sneered down their noses at Elizabeth and Josefina as they passed, but Elizabeth knew all too well how uncomfortable they were in the summer heat. If there was one thing she missed the least about being a governor's daughter, it would be the fashions.

They climbed to the top of a particularly tall hill, and once they reached the top, a wonderful sight awaited them. An enormous stone wall surrounded a city filled with brightly colored buildings crammed beside each other. Both peasants and the well-to-do bustled through their cobblestone streets, making way for the horses and carts that pushed their way through the crowds. Spanish soldiers marched occasionally along the stone walls, watching for a danger that did not appear to be coming anytime soon. Magnificent towers stationed for defense resided at every corner of the city, aimed out at the ocean, aimed down towards the land. An enormous fortress and community in one.

Ana tugged once on Elizabeth's hand to let her know they were going in, but Elizabeth was beginning to panic. Those Spanish guards—would they recognize her? Did they know she was wanted by England? She forced herself to avoid eye contact, adjusting the chest to reassure herself it was there with her, not in the hands of a government official. Josefina led them into the midst of the crowd, weaving in between the wide birth created by the women's dresses and skirting past the awkward stares.

The bright buildings were all about two stories high, painted in pinks and purples and blues, balconies enclosed with intricately designed metal fences. The obviously poorer working class was dressed similarly to Josefina and her children. Loose fitting clothing, flat shoes.Their group continued on, finally emerging onto a large, red brick plaza before an enormous white building. Josefina snapped an order to her children at that point, causing them to scamper off under the arched, marble entrance and down a hallway.

"The governor's mansion," Josefina said as she and Elizabeth crossed the plaza and passed a pair of guards into the marble archway. Josefina said nothing else until they were out of earshot of the guards. "When we get your new clothes, I will speak with the governor's wife and inform her of your arrival and the deal we have struck. If she asks to meet you, try not to speak, because the moment she finds out you're an Englishwoman, things will become a little more difficult."

Elizabeth nodded, though she was only half-listening. She was too busy gazing around at the enormous stone walls, marble floors, and hundreds of expensive trinkets. Rugs, furs, and gold lined the halls as the two of them made their way through. The occasional butler or guard would walk past, casting odd glances in Elizabeth's direction. When they saw Josefina with her, they looked elsewhere.

Their feet echoed on the stone floors as Josefina led Elizabeth down a final hallway, lined with paintings of post-governors and mixed with wooden doorways.

"In here," she said, opening the final wooden door in the hall and gesturing for Elizabeth to enter.

It was a dimly lit room, with beige stucco walls and a single glass-paned window looking down across the far east wall of the city, down to the sea. The room was of average size, a full bed in the northeast corner where somebody was apparently sleeping. Elizabeth was not close enough to see who it was. There was also a set of bunk beds across the room from the full bed. An intricately designed trunk was at the foot of the full bed, and Josefina approached it, opening it up and shuffling through mounds of clothing.

"Is this where you live? Here? In this room?" Elizabeth whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping man.

"Yes," Josefina replied, pulling out a dress, holding it up over Elizabeth's body. She gave a _tsk_ before tossing it back in the trunk and delving further. "Manuel and Ana sleep in the smaller beds, but if the governor's wife isn't willing to give you your own room, then you will sleep on the lower bunk and Manuel and Ana will share the top."

Elizabeth meant to say thank you, but the words stuck, and instead she kept her silence, grinning once. She had a burning question about the sleeping man, but decided it could wait.

"Ah, here we are!" Josefina said, pulling out a long cream dress like her own, billowing sleeves and a brown bodice laced up the front. "Change!" she ordered. "And then we'll fix your hair and get things situated, shall we?"

\\//\\//

Elizabeth stood on bated breath outside a set of large, wooden, double doors. The office of the governor's wife. The dress was quite comfortable, and she held no complaints—no corset required. Josefina had suggested she leave Will's chest in the room, but Elizabeth had outright refused to part with it. Now she stood here, waiting, listening for any inclination of her fate. Both Josefina and the other woman were speaking quickly. It didn't sound like things were going terribly, but they could have been better.

Elizabeth jumped as the doors opened. Josefina's head popped out and she gave it a jerk to show Elizabeth was needed inside.

"Don't bring the chest," Josefina commanded in a whisper. "She'll want to see inside of it. I don't know what's in there, but if it's dear to you, don't risk her taking it."

She nodded slowly in understanding, handing it over slowly, still wrapped tightly in her old clothing. It seemed to take forever to pull her hands away, and finally, closing her eyes, Elizabeth spun around and swept into the room. The woman standing before her was wearing a large lacy hat, decorated with long feathers along the side. Her gloved hands were resting on her very wide, pale pink, skirt.

Her lips pursed as she glared at this newcomer. There was something not quite right…

Elizabeth rubbed her arms nervously, trying her hardest not to look away. She was repeating what Josefina had told her earlier, about not speaking until necessary. How much harder would things get if she spoke some English?

Suddenly the governor's wife whispered something low, deep, quiet…Elizabeth would not have been able to understand her words, even if they had been in English.

"Pardon?" Elizabeth said softly.

The woman raised her eyebrow, a smirk crossing her face. "English are you, dear? And you want to work in the home of a governor of Spain?"

Elizabeth could feel a very warm flush creeping up her cheeks. "I assure you, I will not cause any problems. I was taking a ship to Port Royal, when I was quite rudely thrown overboard. Because of such, I have no desire to return."

"But you are English," the woman said with a scathing drawl. "And you expect what, exactly?"

"A roof over my head, in return for service," she replied immediately. Her tone was that of confidence, her eyebrows rising as if she was the one deciding the deal.

The woman's face became quite stern. "Not another word." Her eyes narrowed. "No problems, means you show proper respect. You will do as Josefina tells you to do. You will sleep in her room, not your own."

"Thank you," Elizabeth breathed.

"One mistake, and you are back into the sea where you came from, understand?"

"Yes, madam."

"And you will take it upon yourself to learn a proper language…Josefina will teach you. You may leave."

"Thank you," Elizabeth said, privately elated, turning to leave.

"I do hope you mean, _Gracias,_ Señorita?"

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder. "Yes, I—of course. _Gracias, Señora_." And she left.

\\//\\//

It was late at night. Moonlight poured in through the bedroom window, directly into Elizabeth's eyes. She was sore from head to foot. The back of her neck, her lower back, her knees…after helping Josefina cook dinner for nearly one hundred guards and government officials, Josefina had sent her to scrub floors. When she finally was let off for the night, she'd come back to the room to find Manuel and Ana getting ready for bed, Josefina helping them into their pajamas and settling them down on the top bunk together. And then she had told them a story…a story that had sent Elizabeth's mind racing. She hadn't been able to make out all the words, but there were some that had sounded quite familiar, close to some English or maybe French, or Latin—some language Elizabeth had actually learned in school.

"Josefina," Elizabeth said, sitting up slightly in bed. The chest was against the wall beside her. The other woman was bent over the trunk, folding the family's clothing and setting it neatly inside.

"_Sí_, Elizabeth..." she replied absentmindedly as she folded.

"That story…the one you told Ana and Manuel…could…could you tell me? In English?"

Josefina looked up, one eyebrow cocked and a suspicious smirk on her face. "Ah, you mean…El Agua de Vida?"

"Yes, that… do you by any chance mean the Fountain of Youth?" Elizabeth's eyes were wide with anticipation.

Josefina gave a soft chuckle. "Why are you so interested in children's stories?"

"But is it really a children's story?" Elizabeth asked with more urgency. "Or did it start as a legend? A possible truth? A chance at all that there's a speck of fact in that story?"

Josefina looked taken aback and doubtful. "It is a legend, yes. Have you heard it?"

"Parts. Only that it's a spring with waters to make you immortal."

Josefina grinned, bending back down over her work. "_Sí_, but you do not know the history, then? The true mystery? What makes it truly exciting?"

Elizabeth sat up completely, leaning forward as if she were going to miss something. "Could you tell me?"

Josefina was smiling broadly now. "You really are peculiar, Elizabeth." She looked out the window, out over the ocean, as if expecting somebody. After several seconds, she turned back, clearing her throat. When she spoke, she spoke slowly. "San Juan was founded a little over 200 years ago, by a Spanish explorer—Juan Ponce de León. He became governor and he built this mansion. He went on many expeditions, all over the Caribbean. He discovered _La Florida, _named it. But the only reason he ever discovered that land was because he was on a search for _El __Agua__ de Vida, _or, the Fountain of Youth, as you say."

"So it exists?" Elizabeth asked frantically.

"Perhaps," Josefina replied, raising a hand to silence her. "He never found it. There are rumors that he wrote several letters about his journey, detailing what he had learned. But he hid them, and they have never been found."

Elizabeth's stomach twisted and she frowned. She had hoped it was real…it would calm one problem she had with all this immortal business. Will was immortal, and she was not. One day, he would return home after ten more years to find her dead…not something she wanted to do to him. She had been thinking all night, during those mindless hours of constant scrubbing. What possible ways could she live forever _with Will? _None came to mind other than the cursed Aztec gold that was entirely out the question. The Fountain of Youth story had not crossed her mind. She had heard the tale at a young age, and had dismissed it as fiction soon after. But hearing Josefina speak of it to her own children brought it to mind. The possibility that it was real, that it existed, was the last bit of hope she had left.

"So…what's the exciting part?" Elizabeth asked, praying her hopes wouldn't be shot down.

Josefina was smiling broadly again, stacking the clothes back into the trunk. "The exciting part, is that I know where the letters are."

And from the bottom of her trunk she pulled out a leather pouch, tied tightly shut. She undid the thread binding it and let it open. Peeking from the opening were several cream sheets of parchment, writing scrawled across the top…

"The letters are here. I am the illegitimate descendant of Juan Ponce de Leon," Josefina whispered.


	3. Villanueva's Tale

_**Villanueva's Tale**_

It was storming in Tortuga, as it had been for the past several days. The streets were muddy and dripping in rain. Only the drunkest of drunkards remained in them as they were tossed from pub to pub. Everyone else was crammed inside the narrow buildings—inns, pubs, stores, all chock full of smelly, dirty, loud people. The crowds, however, seemed to have no effect on the mellowed Captain Hector Barbossa. He was on his fifth glass of ale for the night, in an attempt to straighten out his melancholy nature. He and his crew had lost the trail of the illusive _Captain Jack Sparrow_, _again_…

They had searched for a good, long month. It seemed they had sailed to every corner of the Caribbean, but without the magical compass or charts, there was hardly a way of knowing where they were. Barbossa had called off the search when a storm began to form, and they made port in Tortuga. After a couple of hours, most of the crew had settled their anxieties with a few pints. After a month, most had forgotten Jack Sparrow entirely. Not Barbossa.

He let out a muffled burp, staring down into his large mug, swirling the amber liquid.

"_Capitán__ Barbossa_!" came a sudden booming voice, brimming with excitement.

The captain looked up slowly from his mug. "Eduardo?" he said, heavily slurred.

The man gave a laugh and pounded him once on the back. Barbossa gave a small grunt, his eyes rolling around unfocused in his head. "What has happened to cause a _capitán_ such misery?" He gave a booming laugh and sat down in a chair beside Barbossa, slamming his own brimming mug down on the table. "Just two months after the conclave, and already you are _drinking!_" He laughed again and took a heavy swig. He was wearing layers of heavy clothing, shimmering with golden brocades. His large hat was crooked on his head, the long feather quivering with Eduardo's laughter.

"Jack Sparrow…" Barbossa muttered, staring back into his glass. "We lost 'im…" He burped again and struggled to look up at Eduardo's reaction.

"Jack Sparrow, eh?" Eduardo said, wiping foam from his mustache and narrowing his yellowed eyes. "Heard he was caught by that new Commodore, from Port Royal."

Barbossa's head shot up, his eyes widening and narrowing as he tried desperately to get his head straight at this news. "Port Royal?"

"_Sí, Señor_. Captured by Commodore Montgomery, due to be hanged."

"Again, eh?" Barbossa mumbled.

"Can't seem to keep himself out of trouble, poor man," Eduardo chuckled. "Why are you searching for him anyway?"

"Took me compass…me charts…dirty rat…" He gulped down some more ale. "Was suppose' to lead us to the Fountain o' Youth, they was…an' he just went an' took 'em…Mr. Joshamee Gibbs, over there…" Barbossa raised a shaky finger to the badger-like man, waving around his bottle of rum, one arm around a heavily chested woman. "Found him 'ere, with a couple o' wenches. Didn't 'ave a clue where _Jack Sparrow _had gone off to, didn't know anything about anything. And that's the closest we ever got to a clue. It was all blind sailing after that…"

"_El Agua de Vida_, eh?" Eduardo said, suddenly serious. "That is what you search for?"

Barbossa nodded feebly.

"Well, there is a tale around the Spanish Main, been around near 200 years. About _El __Agua__ de Vida_…It is said that Juan Ponce de León, the Spanish explorer hid information about the place, how to find it. Letters, hiding within the walls of his mansion."

"And…those will help?" Barbossa asked, curious.

"You could put them to better use than a compass and charts," Eduardo said with a burp. "But you will probably need all three things to make it to the fountain."

Barbossa squinted. "And where be these letters of such high value?"

Eduardo grinned. "Ever traveled to _Puerto Rico?_ In the governor's mansion there."

"And, by governor's mansion, I suppose you're implying a certain amount of gold and treasure as well?" The captain grinned crookedly.

"Perhaps as a payment for my stash of valuable information." And he drained his mug.

//\\//\\

It had been two months since Elizabeth had first started working in the mansion. Her hands and knees were raw from scrubbing floors. She was exhausted from the late nights and early mornings, and she constantly felt as if she was still at sea, nausea plaguing her for hours each day. Refusing to complain, she kept as quiet as possible upon returning to the small room, except when Josefina would talk with her after Ana and Manuel were asleep. The man sleeping all the time in the largest bed turned out to be Josefina's husband, Martín. '_He was ill and unable to work_,' was all the woman had said about it before changing the subject. Questions arose every so often about Will's chest, but Elizabeth always kept silent. She slept with it beside her own heart at night, hiding it beneath her bed during the day.

Josefina had also elaborated about her relationship to Juan Ponce de León during their late night chats. Her great-grandfather was the son of the governor's son and a maid. The letters had been passed down through the governor's line, but it was too obvious. His father passed the letters to his illegitimate son, to throw off the trail. It was an unlikely person to hold such an important item, but it worked. Several raids had taken place throughout the course of history, and nobody had thought to look for the notes in such a trivial place as the trunk of a servant.

Elizabeth had been thinking a great deal about the fountain, the possibility of being with Will forever, but the conclusions she arrived at were only disappointing. For one, she had no ship. She would not be able to get off this island without one, and if she stole one, she would not be able to return. Even then—she had no compass, no sense of direction, no crew. And so the thought had drifted from the forefront of her thinking, and instead she concentrated on soapy floors and cooked vegetables.

When the end of her second month working was drawing to a close, Elizabeth had been feeling particularly ill, overwhelmed with headaches, vomiting, and light cramping. On some mornings, she could hardly get out of bed, and on some evenings, she couldn't get to bed fast enough. Josefina had sent her to bed early several times lately, but always with slight agitation.

Josefina returned to the room on one such evening after a heated conversation with the governor's wife. When she spotted Elizabeth lying on her bed, she folded her arms and pursed her lips. "What use are you to me if you do nothing but lie there, being ill?" she hissed quietly, since Ana and Manuel were asleep. "I did not bring you here to lie on my daughter's old bed sheets! You said you would earn your keep!"

Elizabeth sat up slowly, hand pressed to her forehead as she stared down to the floor. "I'm sorry, Josefina…"

The woman sighed, moving over to the trunk and sitting on its lid, so the two of them were facing each other. "I have just finished speaking to the governor's wife. She's…_upset_, with your lack of productivity."

Elizabeth looked up, eyes glistening. "Please don't make me leave…" she whispered. "I can't leave; I _have_ to _stay_ here, Josefina."

"You must understand, Elizabeth. I am just trying to look out for my own family. If you are unable to work, it is just another burden for us." She glanced briefly at her sleeping husband. His dark brown beard was several inches long and in desperate need of a trim, the same for his greasy hair. His breathing was uneven and ragged as he slept.

"I _am _trying," Elizabeth said, becoming slightly frantic. "I'm doing what I can…I don't know what's wrong. I'm just a little ill! It will pass, and I can help again…_Please_!"

"Elizabeth…" Josefina paused. She glanced out the window, watching a ship pulling in from the distance. "You have been a pleasure to meet and speak to, but I am afraid we just don't have room for a baby here."

Her mouth dropped and she stared at Josefina. "I…but…_what_?"

But before the words could even sink in, sudden shouts were heard, and then…

The explosion of a cannon.

* * *

A/N: Thanks all of you for your wonderful reviews! Sorry this took awhile, and it's short, but that's just how this chapter was planned out. School starts in less than two weeks, so updates will be taking a little longer. Please stay patient!

Also, a friend of mine asked why I was making Josefina seem so mean in this chapter--it's just so she's more real. I'm sick of all the 'perfect' new characters out there.

Please review!


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